


Grand Theft Zombies

by HeidiHyena



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiHyena/pseuds/HeidiHyena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombie AU. Michael and Trevor are good at this zombie apocalypse business. Like, really good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Theft Zombies

**Author's Note:**

> Zombies based off of The Walking Dead zombies. Set in the late 1980s, before Michael met Amanda (thus doesn't have a family to worry about). Just a short fic imagining young and rowdy M and T in the zombie apocalypse.

The store is silent and dark, pierced with the few patches of light that shine through the slits in the boarded up windows. Michael readjusts his grip on the handle of the pickaxe and moves quietly and carefully. He sweeps the aisles, straining his eyes to see if there are any walkers lurking around. 

He’s walking the last few aisles at the back of the store when he spots a figure at the end of the row. It’s standing stationary, shoulders drooped and head cocked unnaturally, so he knows it’s a walker. Its back is turned; lucky him. Michael hoists the axe up and creeps slowly and cautiously up behind it. When he’s a good distance away he swings the axe through its head. It makes a brief choking noise before going limp. With a grunt he pulls the axe back out. 

He’s reasonably sure it’s safe now so he sets the pickaxe on the ground and slides his backpack off. Most of the shelves in this shithole are empty, but he moves through the store and throws anything that’s still edible or useful into the bag. He’s still being as quiet as possible, just in case there are a few lurkers about that he missed. 

When he’s cleaned the place out he hoists the backpack up onto his shoulders, picks up his axe, and slips out the front door. Trevor’s waiting for him. He’s leaning against the front of the store looking bored with his shotgun in his hands. Trevor hates guard duty, says it’s boring and a “waste of his talents.” T tends to be trigger happy and just generally loud, though, so Michael insists they do it this way.

“All done, cupcake?” Trevor drawls, sounding just as bored as he looks. Michael nods, and Trevor motions to see the bag. Michael’s shrugging it off his shoulder when Trevor lets out a drawn-out whistle. He jerks his chin.

“Looks like trouble’s coming.”

Michael looks to where Trevor is indicating. Three people are walking towards them. It looks a woman and two men. He glances at Trevor, who’s looking much less bored and a lot more excited. Nothing good could come of a look like that on Trevor.

When the group stops in front of them, Trevor says, “Can we help you folks?”

One of the men is holding a rifle, and the other two in the group seem to be packing pistols. The man with the rifle speaks. “Yeah, you could give us whatever you’ve got in that backpack.”

Trevor fakes a thoughtful look. “Ummmmmm, no, I don’t think so. So fuck off.”

The man raises his rifle and points it at Michael. Michael snorts. This poor bastard was just begging to start shit with the wrong people.

“That’s a real dumb move, pal,” Michael tells him. If there was anybody who got more pissed about guns being pointed at Michael than Michael, it was Trevor.

Just as he thought, when he looks at Trevor his jaw is squared, his nostrils are flared, and his eyes are flashing with anger. He looks like an angry bull. And this dumbass hick just waved a huge red flag in his face.

“We’re reasonable people, friend,” the man says. “Just give us half of what you got in there, and we’ll all walk away from this unharmed.” The guy’s companions glance at each other, like they weren’t expecting their leader to make a deal like that.

“Shoulda made that offer without pointing a gun at my friend,” Trevor barks. “I would have said yes!” Michael snorts again. That was a bald-faced lie. He knew Trevor; if the guy hadn’t started a fight, Trevor would have.

He hears the shot ring out instead of actually seeing Trevor fire it off, and the man goes flying backwards. He hits the ground, blood pouring from his chest. Yep, dude was dead. No recovering from a wound like that these days.

The man and the woman have pure shock written across their faces. They look like they’ve never seen a man’s chest ripped open from a shotgun blast before. Or maybe they’ve just never seen a friend’s chest ripped open from a shotgun blast before. Either way, they look like they’re about to shit themselves, if they haven’t already. 

“You crazy fuck!” the woman says, looking back to Trevor.

Trevor snarls. “You got that right. I am fucking crazy! Now why don’t you get the fuck outta here before I shoot both of you?” 

The pair looks at each other for a second, but they seem to make up their minds pretty quickly, because a moment later they’re tearing across the lot like someone set their asses on fire. 

He and Trevor watch them go for a bit before Trevor motions for Michael to hand the bag over. He gives it to him and then walks over to the man Trevor shot. Michael kicks at the body to make sure the guy’s really dead. “You fucking psychopath,” he says, shaking his head. He’s mostly just amused though; the prick had it coming for trying to mess with him and Trevor.

“A psychopath’s the best thing to be during the apocalypse, Mikey!” Trevor replies in his typically cheery voice. He’s rummaging through Michael’s backpack. “Jesus, Mike, this is all shit. I killed a guy for this crap?”

“It was all they had!” he says defensively. “Besides, you would have killed that guy for a pat on the head and a stuffed animal.” Even that is being generous; he’d seen Trevor kill people for far less, like making cracks about his mother or about him being Canadian.

“You know me so well,” Trevor replies with a laugh. “Now make sure this piece of shit doesn’t come back.”

Michael hoists the pickaxe up before bringing it down through the guy’s skull. While he’s pulling it out, Trevor comes over and grabs the dude’s rifle. “Dumb fucks should have taken this with them!” he says, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Yeah, sure, let’s just get the hell out of here. That shot’s gonna bring every corpse for miles.” Michael takes his backpack from Trevor and puts it on. 

“No thanks for saving your life?” Trevor says, swinging his arms wide.

Michael rolls his eyes. “Thanks for firing off a shot that’s gonna bring every corpse for miles, asshole.”

“You’re welcome, Mikey. Now get your fat ass in gear and let’s go.”

They take off across the parking lot, high on adrenaline from their encounter. This apocalypse was turning out to be a lot more fun than he’d thought it would be.


End file.
